Page 68 of The Hunted

“From whispers I have heard, it seems the king of this sea is going to demand that his daughter remain here with the colony. Although, he’s suggested differently to us.”

Mav scowled. “That was not the original agreement.”

Not that Mav had been in total agreement with the original terms. He hadn’t been pleased at his father picking a mate from a decimated kingdom where their kind were hunted regularly by people on the land. He assumed she would be weak, perhaps even worthless, given her place as the third princess in her sea. He’d decided he rather liked her, after laying eyes on her when he’d first arrived.

At least, she was beautiful.

A royal, nonetheless.

What good did any of that do him, however, if she would remain here while he was across the world in his own kingdom? It would have been far different for Arelle to see how she should live while controlling the land and the sea in tandem. Not hiding away beneath calm waters and only getting the land when storms came along.

“Things have clearly changed,” Vane replied. “Circumstances are—”

“It is not my problem the king here cannot protect his people from those on land. If he were smart, he’d have done what we did many moons ago and taken back the land. Instead, they hide in the water as though land is a death sentence. Utter non—”

“Pardon me,” the advisor said calmly, “but people are going to hear you, and we don’t want it getting back, do we?”

Gods.

“And how long would she remain here after I go back?”

“The king is still relatively young and healthy. You’re well aware of how long he could live. Your own father is nearing his ninetieth passing on the throne and will have many more before you take his place.”

“Hmm.”

“Zale has plenty of time to produce more young with his wife—once, or if, he does, I suspect the conversation about Arelle leaving the kingdom will be reintroduced.”

Nonsense.

That’s what this was.

Mav hated all of it.

“It’ll be impossible to get word to your father and get a decision on negating the agreement by the time the next storm comes along,” Vane explained.

Mav hummed under his breath. “At which time, the king here expects us to have mated.”

“Yes.”

“So, you think he’s planned that.”

“I think nothing, Prince. I simply give you a conversation for you to come up with your own thoughts and intentions.”

Mav believed that only partially. He’d come to an understanding about his advisor years ago in which the man did expect the prince to come to his own conclusions on certain things, but at the same time, he liked to direct Mav to said conclusions as well.

“Well,” Mav drawled, putting all of his attention back on the dancing women and their songs filling the courtyard, “seems we don’t have a choice but to let the mating happen. We’ll have to wait and see what happens after to decide where we go from there.”

“How so?”

“She’ll chase the bond, won’t she? He’ll have no say in that.”

“Mav—”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You’re not,” the advisor admitted.

Not that he sounded like he particularly wanted to.